


In The Meantime

by Elane_in_the_Shadows



Category: Red Queen - Victoria Aveyard
Genre: F/M, Smut, Steel Scars
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-28
Updated: 2018-12-21
Packaged: 2019-05-14 23:53:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 20,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14779665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elane_in_the_Shadows/pseuds/Elane_in_the_Shadows
Summary: Red Queen/Glass Sword retelling about the left-out moments between Farley and Shade. A compilation of older Fade one-shots fitted into a story with new content.





	1. Prologue

**„I won’t leave** my sister there alone,” Shade announced, shaken, yet gathering his determination.

“She won’t be. I will make sure of it.” For a moment, Farley’s gaze wandered into the distance, towards the square they’d fled from, the gaping crowd, the screens. Towards the future unfolding in labyrinthine ways. It only strengthened her resolve. She found the same emotion mirrored in Shade’s eyes.

“So will I,” he declared. He looked like a soldier, still in his Nortan uniform. But something integral had shifted. He’d become _her_ soldier, her responsibility and hers to protect. Now more than ever, when he was on the run from the army. All words they exchanged turned into promises, something personal, more than their mission for justice. _I’ll take Mare under my wing for his sake as well_ , Farley thought. She swallowed, well aware of Shade’s lingering touch, his closeness as they crouched in the dim corner. She searched for his hand and found it. “We still have to smuggle you away,” she said. “You can’t – “

Suddenly, he leaned over her, his hand cupping her chin, Despite the summer heat, she shivered. “I know,” he said with a wince. But then the corners of his mouth twitched, forming almost into a wry smile. Almost, since the next moment, they were kissing, giving in to the draw they’d felt from the moment they’d met, stilling the hunger that had built up for three months. Neither of them was inexperienced, that was obvious. But this union felt new and fresh, something that made her think this was more than a random kiss in an alley to distract them from a moment of panic. The longer she kissed Shade Barrow, the more she wanted him. Not only physically. She longed to open her heart to him and knew his as well.

After a few seconds, Shade took a breath and she believed he mumbled “finally”, and in her chest, she felt a similar release. It might’ve been the reason they weren’t stopping, despite the inappropriateness, despite the danger. Instead they stayed fixed in their embrace for endless minutes.

Her fingers traced patterns on his cheek. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d touched someone so gently, not even a wounded comrade she’d taken care of. It was exhilarating. He found her eyes and both of them knew this moment changed nothing in the grand scheme of things. She cleared her throat, fussed over her clothes, hair, weapons. “We have to go,” she said, “My contact Crance is already waiting to get us out of here.”

Shade stood up and sighed, then offered to help her up, and she let him. It felt too early to stop touching.

 


	2. The Tower

**A/N: Warning: Smut, gore and horror elements ahead.**

* * *

**She was neither** a naive little girl, nor could she go on pretending that professional distance kept her from Shade Barrow. It wasn't. It had vanished the moment they'd watched the Queenstrial together, or, to be more exact, once they'd started kissing in the alley they’d hid in. Diana Farley knew where this was going. Dating, infatuation, attraction, love, whatever name she out on her feelings for Shade, it didn't change them. She wanted him. She'd tried to delude herself for months, even more so during the days after the kissing incident.

_But what bad a liar I am to myself_ , she thought as she met him again, weeks later when they were sent on the same mission.

Farley hadn’t lived up to her promise about protecting Mare in the end. Or not yet. The contacts in Summerton and the news themselves reported on Mare Barrow’s state frequently, although they called her the fortunately re-appeared “Mareena Titanos”. If that didn’t play into their plans, Farley might’ve been tempted to check if any of the cover-up story was true. They could be merit in that, to know whether the Silvers of Norta had reasons to believe the story or whether they all knew this was merely a ploy to mesmerize the gullible Reds with a fairy tale. Farley had looked through Elara Merandus’s show easily. The whisper queen knew how to sway people and present a pretty and seductive image, that wasn’t a surprise. It had merely reminded Farley how much she wanted to punch her in the face. But with that ability, would she even have a chance? Or would Merandus suck out their plans together with their cause and their souls?

She hoped Mare would survive her and the rest of the royals and the court, although Shade had insisted that Mare was the most resilient person he knew.

Farley hadn’t asked if she was a match for Mare in that regard. She’d been tempted. But she’d see for herself, once she was back in Summerton and Albanus. Tristan ran things there in her stead and waited for Mare to contact them again. Everyone in Command was certain Mare would ally with them, the Scarlet Guard, but even while she lived in luxury and baited with a crown? Command, mostly Palace, had insisted leverage was needed and decided Barrow couldn’t be informed about her brother’s survival, to maintain her motivation to rebel. A careful approach, but Farley doubted any Red worth taking part in their cause would lean back and rely on crowned heads and the limited “changes” the Silver monarchies would deign to offer. So far, Shade had quietly accepted this scheme. But she didn’t believe he was happy about it.

* * *

**For now, she** was ordered to keep an eye on Shade Barrow during the spying mission assigned to him. She’d snorted at the task, one that any operative would’ve managed, but she was Shade’s handler and, deep down, excited to see him again. She’d missed his telegrams lately, and their work in Corvium had proved effective as well. As far as she’d heard, his journey into obscure safety was strenuous, even worse than the days she spent in hiding because of the Guard video she’d starred in.

Now he stood in front of her, amused beneath his obvious exhaustion. She stopped herself from grinning back. Or falling into his arms. Not that she didn’t consider it. “I guess you found your way to the Rift in time,” she said instead, and patted his shoulder.

He sighed and took her hand, weaving his fingers between hers, a gesture she ignored decidedly. “I’m okay,” he said in a husky voice.

She nodded. “We’re supposed to search Lord Laris’s country mansion for intelligence on the Rift’s mines and techie towns. We have contacts and supporters in there, but we need to learn more about supply lines and their schedules, both to avoid and to raid them. A collaborator relayed to us that the mansion will be empty this evening until 2200.”

“I know all that.” He winked.

Finally, she pulled her hand away. “So? I’m surprised your telegrams were that explicit.”

“I figured out what the objective is.”

“I appreciate your wits, but a responsible officer briefs their subordinates before a mission.”

Her heart accelerated when he grinned, an emotion she bit down and swallowed. _Not now_. But he didn’t care, leaned forward and said, “I’m lucky to have found such a thoughtful, intelligent and _responsible_ rebel officer.”

She smirked. “Don’t overestimate me. I’d be nothing if I didn’t live for the risk.”

* * *

**The back door** the report had guided them to wasn’t as unoccupied as planned. It didn’t present a complete surprise as the informant had warned them of occasional patrols and how to evade them. But Shade denied that after scouting the perimeter. “No patrols in sight, apart from those on the streets – as we were told. That man is a servant.” He seemed baffled.

Farley frowned. “That is our informant.”

“So we go to him?”

“Yes.” She pulled out her gun without taking aim and approached him. “Mr. Cain,” she greeted him.

The man nodded. “I’ll follow my lord in a moment, but I have to warn you. The old lady is still at home, she hardly leaves the tower. I thought this evening would be an exception, but I should’ve considered telling you about her in the first place.”

Farley inclined her head. “I understand. Thank you.”

Cain hesitated to leave. “The valuables are in the tower as well, on the second floor. The vault isn’t controlled regularly, so you might achieve something … for your finances there.” He added more information about the vault.

“If we steal something there, won’t it incriminate you?” Shade asked. His concern surprised her. It wasn’t wrong, but … unusual. It became unusual to ask things like that so quickly.

Cain appeared wry, the corners of his mouth twitching. “I wouldn’t contact you without considering that in every free minute. It’s dangerous, but I have to.” He sighed. “I’m more afraid for my co-workers. Whether the lord’s wrath will fall on them for nothing one day. It's easier for you,” he added, his voice rising, “who don’t have to work beneath a Silver lord’s eyes every day.”

Shade’s eyes darkened, but he kept silent. His sister had to live with similar concerns currently.

“It’s not the same,” Farley agreed finally. “Thus we cooperate to end this.”

Cain left with the barest bow of his head.

* * *

**“You go into** the tower and scrap those gems together,” Farley decided when they entered the mansion. “You can get away quickly if that crone shows up. I’ll go through the ledgers.”

“Won’t you need help there?” he asked. “Four eyes see more, and we have to write everything down …”

“Fine,” she snorted. “You come back at 2030, but we get out at 2100 the latest.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” he said, and was gone.

She sighed. “Always a relief when he doesn’t carry me along.”

The ledgers were a lot to read, but very resourceful. Apart from the naked numbers, Laris frequently complained about House Samos threatening to take the Rift away from the official governors, House Laris. “Oh Laris, this is nothing but hot air,” Farley concluded. “You’d bow to the Samos if they made a move or beg the king to punish them for you.”

She switched ledgers, hoping she’d copied the most relevant information. It was close to 2030 and Shade should be here soon. Expecting him, her focus waned a little. She checked again if she’d replaced everything she’d touched, since even if someone noticed the intrusion, they weren’t supposed to realize her objective was intelligence. Her gaze glided over the office. It was filled with too many pieces of huge, stuffed furniture, all velvet and old. She could see the moths on the floor and the red curtains, those not in Laris’s yellow house colours, as if someone had just randomly pilfered together luxurious things they’d found. Clearly, this wasn’t an estate that Laris cherished. _What if he only comes here to do things sinister and secret?_ she wondered.  She’d be too lucky if she found out about that as well.

From a dirty window, she could see the tower standing high and lonely. “Or they just climb its stupid roof for an unholy ceremony on every full moon night,” she muttered. Everything was ominous in here, like in her mother’s bedtime stories. She’d liked to hear them, unlike her little sister, and Clara Farley had loved to tell them. Even as a child, Farley hadn’t been afraid of them, nor would she now, not even if a Silver madwoman lived in the attic.

This ledger was useless. While she put it back, she looked for Shade once more but there was no sign of him yet. She turned back to the shelf and cursed, just when something yellow flickered in the corners of her eyes.

Next thing she knew, a gust of wind slammed her against the shelf, then let her drop on the floor – hard.

She saw the figure clearer now. A thin old woman in a flowery yellow robe. Laris yellow. “Bloody fuck,” she cursed, getting up and pulling out her knife. A mistake. Before she could even aim, another gust slashed the blade out of her hand, around her, and into her face, cutting deep.

She stepped back, but the Silver woman was smiling. The knife still paced in the air, carried around the woman in a flurry. She hadn’t moved her hands, her arms hanging down strangely stiff.

_Don’t they have healers for that?_

The squalls spread through the whole room, they raced and slowed seemingly random, but actually showing off the woman’s control over her element. Damn her. Age marked her appearance but her ability remained perfectly strong and lethal. The Laris woman came closer, Farley circled her. She was unsure how to proceed, playing for time at first, as Shade was supposed to arrive any moment. Then she realized – the crone might’ve killed him already.

She gritted her teeth, and blood from her wound ran into her mouth. She wouldn’t let Laris get away if she’d laid hand on Shade. Farley still had her gun, but even if she could pull it out and keep it, there was only a slight chance to make a hit with the strange winds in here. She straightened. Grinning, she said, “you could just let me go– “

She was thrown across the room again, and she couldn’t avoid a scream of pain – until her breath was literally taken away and she found herself pinned flat to the floor. Cold sweat of fear ran down her spine, the winds froze her even more. She fought to get up, futilely. The Silver’s squalls were too strong.

The floor creaked under Laris’s slippered feet. While her every breath was an ordeal, Laris sidled as light as air, her long white hair moving too slightly given the blasts she created, as if she kept them away from herself.

_Why would the Silvers hide such a master away?_

Laris allowed her a few shallow breaths every now and then, enough to keep her conscious. The Silver seemed so amused, as if this was the most exciting thing happening to her in a decade. It probably was, and Farley would’ve scratched the expression off her face, if not the wooden floor was all she could touch. Laris bent over her, letting the air lift up Farley’s knife for her. Only to let if fall into Farley’s face. She gasped, unable to scream while choking.

“What a beauty you are,” Laris said quietly. “Too sad you’ll lose it too me.” The knife dropped again, cutting even deeper and adding patterns to the wounds already there. Farley’s heartbeat accelerated, from the lack of air, from the pain. Her blade was sharp, freely drawing blood that began to run down her neck or was swirled up in the air by Laris’s flurries.

Laris stared of the red drops. “I always thought red blood is beautiful. So bright, like a flower.” She smiled, creeping Farley out even more. “And as fragile.”

_Maybe this is why they kept her in here._

Laris’s grin only widened. The knife dropped to the ground and Farley’s blood splashed on the walls with the blink of an eye. “As red and fiery as poppies,” Laris went on. “They’re stunning, and quite underestimated. For good reason, my dear intruder: They only bloom at dawn, full of hope, only to be scattered and destroyed by the next strong breeze.

“So will you.”

Farley gasped and was close to passing out. She tried to focus as much as she could. Laris still hadn’t used her hands, while Farley found she could raise hers from the ground for a split second.

“You have violets in your eyes, girl,” Laris hissed, a compliment that felt like a mock. “Blue as cornflowers, what a combination with your blood.” She cocked her head. “Oh no, is it you? The Red devil of this Scarlet Guard?” She laughed, an odd sound coming from her, but her expression turned victorious. “Now my insipid drunkard of a nephew will have to reward me. For taking down the traitorous insurgent.”

Farley didn’t wait for the final blast. While the woman gloated, she grabbed her stiff and frail wrists, her hold becoming tighter and tighter, nails digging into skin. Finally, she saw a flicker of pain on Laris’s face. It gave Farley a moment to breathe, literally. She threw Laris off her and kicked her, then scrambled for her knife. Another gust of wind made her stumble, but Laris was unable to get up now, her control not as absolute. Farley tossed her knife through the breezes and drew silverblood from Laris’s leg. A distraction, so Laris, shocked by her wound, could do nothing to stop Farley from taking her gun and shooting her in the head.

Farley dropped to knees, then onto her side, trying to regain all the breaths she’d lost. Adrenaline had held her up, now it was gone and only her scores of aches remained, along with the bloody mess of her cheek.

* * *

**She was astounded** how dementedly happy she was to see Shade, especially since his tardiness had caused all this bloodshed. She laughed and it made her choke, spraying blood on Shade and herself as he picked her up from the ground.

"Farley! Are you okay?" Shade was so worried, it was so freaking cute. “Sorry I come so late,” he whispered. She winced as another laugh tried to rise from deep down.

"No, I'm not okay, Barrow," she hissed huskily as Shade pressed a cloth against her throat. " 'Cuz you gonna jump us out of here right now!"

She heard his chuckle as the world started to spin around her.

* * *

**Fortunately, she didn't** throw up this time. Once they were in the safe house, her stomach had calmed down again. She made herself let go of his hand and dropped the cloth, now soaked with her blood while the wounds started to clot. She left him standing to walk into the bathroom; she was enough of a field medic to take care of herself in front of a mirror.

She looked awful, even with the blood washed off. She breathed in and out, quietening herself to stitch her gashes. She began, flinching at her numerous aches and at the uneasy movements of her body. But she pulled through, unafraid of pain as she prided herself to be. Yet that didn't make it easy –

There was a knock on the door, and ten seconds later, Shade entered the bathroom. She didn't object.

"Do you manage?" he asked.

"Well – “

"No, you don't," he said gently, his hands taking hers, and prying the needle from her fingers. He stared.

"Let me do this," he offered, and she blinked. "I'm not ignorant of field medicine either, Captain Farley," Shade insisted, and she let go. It was strangely relaxing.

Once he was done, he leaned his brow against hers and she couldn't have said if they'd stood like that for seconds or for minutes. Her hands were on his hips as he eventually spoke. "Diana," he whispered, "I'm glad I found you."

_Which time do you mean?_ she wondered for a moment. "So am I," she answered him.

* * *

**He was careful** with his kisses. They'd laid down on the bed and now he paid attention to avoid her throat and the wounded side of her face. Farley hadn't expected to enjoy this so much, despite her soreness. _This really has to be love_ , she marvelled, only slightly sarcastic, as Shade unbuttoned her shirt to move on to her cleavage. She helped him and unbuckled their belts. He froze for a second, his eyes wide in surprise.

"Don't you want to?" she asked in a low voice, though the question was unnecessary as the answer was obvious. But firstly, his hands began to stroke her, careful along her bruises and starting with her breasts, before going lower, over her rips, waist and hips, until he found the intimate places between her legs. She moaned, not having imagined how much she'd desired _that_. His wonderful, magical, hands making her come.

"Damn you, Shade Barrow," she uttered, breathing raggedly, He smiled smugly, kissed her belly and started to heave himself up. She tugged him back down. "You don't want to stop now?" She frowned.

He blushed, even more than before. "Well, um, shouldn't we? I mean, I'd like to ... " he staggered and blinked.

Farley shoved her thoughts about professional distance, precaution and her reservations to get close away. "I'd like to as well," she said and turned around to climb on his lap.

He hugged her tightly. "Okay, Diana. Dee. Okay."

* * *

**She laid sprawled** on the bed and contemplated the bruises of her fight. She stared at her hands that had touched Shade so intimately, but which had killed as well, just a few hours before. “That woman crept me out,” she said. “All that happened today … was unexpected.” She wasn’t entirely sure which occasion she meant.

“What about Mr. Cain?” Shade asked from his position beside the window. He seemed thoughtful, but she noticed the blush on his cheeks.

“I assume he’ll be safe, or we’ll have to make sure he will be. Lord Laris doesn’t seem to care about his charming aunt. Might even be glad about her death and keep her cause of death a secret, or …”

“Or what?”

She cackled, which was a painful mistake. “He’d have to confess that a lowly Red killed a master Silver windweaver. Is that likely?”

He walked back to her and sat down on the bed. “Maybe?”

She sneered. "I'm hurt allover."

"Dee, I'm sorry – " he misunderstood, and she cackled even louder, making her wince for another time. "That's certainly _not_ your fault, although – you could make up for your tardiness." She blinked and caressed his arm, stared into his eyes meaningfully. He was getting even redder. "You can get me some painkillers," she said finally, leaving Shade hilariously flustered.

"I'll get you some. Dee," he offered and rose up.

“And check if my notes are still readable,” she added. She was extremely glad she didn’t forget them in her panic to get away, as it could’ve been the Scarlet Guard’s undoing.

“Of course, Dee,” he agreed, less enthusiastic now.

"Shade." He turned around. "I like to hear you say that. 'Dee,' I mean," she confessed.

"You're welcome," he replied and winked at her. She winked back.

_Damn you Shade Barrow._

_You make me ignore I have killed someone today._

_You make me forget I almost died today._

_Will it always be like this? Will time and space leave when we kiss? It feels like a chase, and I want to gamble._

_I want to gamble and fall in love with you._

* * *

**_A/N 2:_** _The sex scene is an updated version of an older fic, embedded into a larger story. Also including quotes from_ Faith _by Lacey Sturm._

 


	3. The Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erotic content

**There was no** direct light in the safehouse. Even at sunrise, only faint, stray, beams found their way through the shuttered and nailed shut slit close to the ceiling; it was rather a vent than a window.

But still, one ray of light was there, and it tickled Farley’s skin, waking her up. She didn’t want to, not to chase away her dream or to leave Shade’s arms. He smelled so good. Let the rebellion be for a second, let this moment linger. Although the pain of her wounded cheek was quickly resurging, she wished to remember only the peaceful minutes of last night. She leaned against his bare chest, planting soft kisses here and there. Carefully, she shifted and moved upwards, over his neck, to his chin, his mouth and his nose, to taste the air he was breathing in. Finally, his eyelids fluttered.

He wasn’t blinded by the sunlight, it only fell on her face. Yet his golden eyes carried the same warmth as the sun, even more when he smiled at her. His hand stirred from where he’d cradled her waist, and landed in her hair.

“I never saw you with your long hair open,” he said. “Must’ve been a gorgeous sight, with the morning light shining on you.”

Her cheek throbbed and heated, now from a blush as well as the ache. She bit her lip, which only made his grin broader. “The dawn is a strong symbol,” she said in a low voice. “Beautiful – meaningful – on its own, not because – “

He half-rose above her and turned to kiss her forehead. “Sure, sure,” he uttered. “Would you please let me compliment you, Dee?”

She hesitated. It was a rhetoric question, wasn’t it? But above her, he looked at her expectantly. _Of course_.

“Yes,” she murmured. _He doesn’t want to … move on immediately either_. “Thank you.” And then she kissed him, not careful or soft, but passionately, exasperated, demanding, and he fell in line.

“We have some time,” she gasped as she took a breath. “Let’s have this moment.” _For us alone._ “Ignore the world for a little longer.”

When she caught sight of his face, she’d expected another cheesy smile that bespoke their mutual arousal. But instead, she saw astonishment that turned into … pride? And even as he grabbed and angled her thigh, and she moaned, she understood.

He was a devoted lover, putting to use what he’d learned about her last night. But he didn’t really know her. Nobody did. Yet Shade was ready, excited, to get to know her as she began to open up to him. He’d met the austere and imperious Captain Farley of the Scarlet Guard and was amazed by every piece and layer of the person Diana revealed to him.

She hadn’t considered this before, had only thought about her own desire, her onw struggles to hide her heart. Now she wanted him to find it, and herself to hold his as well. She pulled him closer, then dragged on his underpants. He, again meticulous about where he kissed her wounded body, jolted in surprise. “Once more?” he asked.

Her other hand went up to stroke through his hair. “You’re obviously ready, aren’t you?” she wondered.

He flushed. “That doesn’t mean I can’t control myself.”

“But do you want to?” she said. “Because I do not.”

He chuckled, a sound that caused her its own kind of joyous tickles and goose bumps. The same appeared on him as her hand went lower, grabbing his butt.

He moaned, and gave her a last kiss on her breast before he shifted his body and pulled off both their underpants. And while she’d talked about forgetting time, she didn’t want to waste it either. Her fingers painted delightful, impatient, circles over his brown skin, until he was back to kissing her, his hands moving _everywhere_. Truly, his magic fingers hadn’t been a one-time fluke and now, once more whispering, “ready?”, to assure her consent, he knew exactly when to change from foreplay into penetration. They didn’t need long.

They stayed entangled at first, while the light had shifted from the orange of dawn to the yellow brightness of day. Shade kept kissing her occasionally, while her fingers still coursed over his skin, finding the hard muscles of his lean body like he found the hidden soft spots of hers.

The whole intimacy of it began to hurt. It’d been hard to built and uphold her armour, and now it was difficult to let go of it. But she wanted to let go, at least when it came to Shade. She liked the person she was with him, like the person she’d been long ago. She wondered if he saw her that way too, or whether he’d always known of her lone soul as well as of her dream to invert the world order.

He was the one to get up first, after a final kiss. She followed quickly and they got dressed without talking, preparing for war yet again. But their hands kept on touching casually and as often as possible, for while they lacked the words for now, their bodies spoke of love loud enough.


	4. The Sun Shooting, part I

**The brush of** air tickled her bare neck. It should’ve been nothing worthy of note, only the reminder to put on her scarf, once she’d strapped her steel-capped boots. But it was the second time, the second hint Farley connected – wanted to connect – to him. Shade Barrow. The “teleporter”, the brother of the Scarlet Guard’s current asset and ward, Mare Barrow. Farley’s … whatever.

She got up and stretched, her hands going to her holsters on her shoulder and hip. As the mission demanded inconspicuousness, she only carried a knife and a small pistol beneath her servants’ garb, and despite knowing this, she cursed silently, longing for the feel of her rifle and the routine it gave her. As if you ever found routine in insurgence and war, murder and survival. And what was better, to begin with? The nervousness coming with the awareness of danger? Or the ignorance of routine?

Farley went over their plan again, assessing the risks and holes, the marks, her team. If only the bloody princeling was reliable, if only Barrow kept her timing and her cover –

Those worries were useless. _I shouldn’t underestimate her, neither who she is nor what she might become_. Farley barked orders to get prepared at her team, but first, she needed to check on the lingering presence in the back of her neck and her mind.

* * *

**In risky casualness** , she’d told him about the location of this hideout in Summerton a while ago, since he was curious about his hometown’s underworld. Now it became the place of a chase, albeit a simple one, like he was framing it form the start, guiding her from one corner to the next _. I don’t have time for this_ , she thought and yet, she didn’t know if she was annoyed or amused.

“You don’t have to live up to your designation, _Shadow_ ,” she hissed and stopped in her tracks. “I’ll just wait.”

He let her wait.

She bit her lip and tapped with her foot. She wouldn’t give in. And still she startled when she felt his touch on her shoulder blades.

She spun, of course he was behind her. He pulled his hand back and already she wished it back on her shoulder, gentle, teasing, and intense. It resonated with the yearning he woke in her, which had been fulfilled the last time they’d met. And in the same way his fingers felt, his eyes looked at her, warm and golden as honey. She gulped. “Welcome back, Barrow,” she said, smirking. She crossed her arms. “You’re ordered to assist us?”

He looked her over with those eyes, as if nothing escaped them, baring her thoughts and what she tried to hide. It shouldn’t surprise her since Shade had already seen her laid bare in a different manner.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

She was fighting the resurgence of these memories and this bastard in front her knew it.

“I am, yes,” he said finally. “General Palace thought it was time to use me, so this colonel told me, and send me here with the mersives.”

“The mersives.”

The corners of his mouth twitched. “Yes, Great beasts. However, what do _you_ know about this colonel?” His playful insinuation made any denial pointless, but at least she was sobered by the topic of the colonel.

“You’re more perceptive than a spy should be,” she said.

“And I thought that’s my job,” he countered.

“Not when you use that on your own commanding officers,” she replied. “He really mentioned Palace to you?” Although Palace was the chief of operations in Norta, thus the commanding officer of all operatives in Norta, including herself, Farley had yet to meet the general in person.

Shade shook his head. “Nor really, but I prefer to read and check the orders by myself.”

“ _Tsk_. As I said, you don’t make yourself trustworthy with this behaviour.”

He raised his eyebrows. “You don’t trust me?” He sighed, then outstretched his hand, to shove something off her clothing. “A servant should look immaculate, Ms. Farley,” he chided her like a palace supervisor would.

She cackled, and the wound on her jaw strained and throbbed. It burned, and she knew not only the healing injury, but also a flush were the reasons for the heat in her cheeks. A flush that had to intensify when she remembered that Shade had stitched the gash, and what that had let to.

“You didn’t answer, Barrow. Are you trustworthy?” She stared him down like any of her soldiers but just when she thought he’d give in, she noticed the traitorous flicker in his eyes, which revealed how much he enjoyed this. And he turned their encounters into _this_ every single time.

But she wouldn’t give in either.

He lowered his head. “I gave my word, to you and the Scarlet Guard, that I’d fight.”

She nodded. _He mentioned me first_. “Then I want you to …”

“And what about you?” he asked. She titled her head. “How do you deal with my sister?”

It was her turn to look down. “She came to join us just after she heard of your ‘death’. I wasn’t there, though I think she hardly needed the extra ‘motivation’. She’s more than ready to fight with us, as we all know there’re enough reasons.”

He shook his head. “I want to meet her.”

“Shade – “

“You can’t stop me.”

“And you need to be careful.” She focused on him relentlessly. This wasn’t negotiable. “You’ve been here for five minutes and not part of the plan. So you will do what you do best, stay in the shadows and secure an escape. I’ll tell you the location where you’ll wait for us, _do you understand_ , Operative Shadow?” He stared back, incensed, before he nodded. “Thank you. I rely on you.” She softened her gaze a little. “I’d offer you to meet Mare but we have to be careful with information. Silver whispers aren’t a vague threat here, the witch queen is practically in Mare’s back.”

“And you don’t want to explain me to Kilorn either, I guess,” he said, his joking tone disclosing his compliance.

“He’ll see you soon enough,” she scoffed, but grinned as well. This time, her hand was brushing his shoulder as she leaned forward. “I look forward to meet you in three hours,” she whispered, noticing their mutual flush at the double meaning. She specified the location in the tunnels and with a last smile, she turned to leave.

It was time to kill some Silvers.


	5. The Sun Shooting, part II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _A/N: This is as long as the GS collector's edition special likely will be, which flusters me a little. Imagine it might even have the same theme ;)_

**The itch was** there, but he didn’t give in. Shade knew better than being reckless; that had kept him alive. At the Choke, but also before, during his whole life in the Stilts. He watched and considered and made the right moves. Even with the Silver officer who had inquired for a Red who could read, Shade had volunteered to become his aide for no other reason, no deeper scheme.

Of course, he’d still joined the Scarlet Guard. But that was also calculation, if you wanted to call the fight for equality and justice that. It was a need. Shade took on the tasks the rebels gave him in the same manner – wondering, researching, staying as safe as possible, doubting his superiors. He suspected the Guard would label him as disloyal for it, so he hesitated to voice every thought of his.

At first. Because when he’d dared to correct Captain Farley instead of only teasing her with inconsequential banter, she’d listened. She still did, and Shade understood she wasn’t hurt by being proved wrong. Because unlike every Silver who ordered him around, Farley sincerely wanted him to trust her.

To be honest, he did already, yet it was nice to know she tried her best for his sake. It was the reason why he was obeying now, despite his urge to jump after Farley and her team. He saw her reasoning, realized he’d be the irresponsible one if he followed without plan or information, or even explored the Hall of the Sun on his own. He only wished to be more than one of two back-up operatives and to put his skills to use.

He’d been training his most special “skill” for a while now, in secrecy and whenever he found the time and place. He jumped with precision and was close to figuring out how intent worked to bring him to specific locations. Bit by bit, he tried out the variables, the distances, heights, how to enter buildings or cross walls, what he was able to carry. Farley was actually the first person he’d carried along, but after he’d jumped with animals, he was sure it would work. Although her bad reaction stunned him. Teleporting only brought him elation, like a good run, joy, peace of mind, the freedom he wished to have for real. Technically, jumping was like sport, even if it was tiring. As long as it was just him, exhaustion took long to reach him, but it crawled closer the more he carried or the more complicated the jump was. Usually, specifying the location was harder on him than distances, and he still had to determine how to combine both the best way. He felt in his guts he’d need to learn this soon.

* * *

**Shade evaded several** watchmen in the tunnels as they weren’t the most focused lot. Either the Silvers weren’t generally alert, or the royals didn’t want everyone aware of the rebel threat, or the watchmen were merely unmotivated – that seemed common among Silvers without prospective positions, in Summerton as well as in the army.

That didn’t mean the waiting wasn’t leaving him anxious. He wished a little he was a shadow, like his name and designation claimed. The tunnels were dark, but not dark enough should someone look in the right direction. He could teleport if necessary, but he was unsure where to, in these tight and labyrinthine tunnels he hardly knew anything about. Where would he end up?

The other option was to dispatch the watch person that found him. He was able to do that, and jumping into someone’s back for a fatal blow seemed simple and safe enough. He carried a pistol and the knife the Scarlet Guard had pilfered and equipped him with, and it wouldn’t be his first time to kill.

He closed his eyes. He wouldn’t enjoy that; he remembered the Lakelander soldiers he’d shot at the Choke with dread. Sweat ran down his neck, and his heartbeat accelerated. Nobody had commented on it back then while Shade had wished to talk with his brothers about it so badly, assuming they’d know how it was, how to cope. He’d never felt so alone in his life.

But the difference was, he wasn’t supposed to kill Silver watch personnel. Unlike Red soldiers, society cared about them. Shade grinded his teeth at the thought. No matter how lazy the watch appeared, one of them not returning and found dead would raise the alarm the Scarlet Guard couldn’t afford.

_Tonight will show the Silvers differently_.

Despite his nervousness, the night stayed calm until the meagre lights went out. His eyes widened. _Mare_. He hadn’t seen her again, thus neither her ability in action. In a way, he was shocked but not surprised about her, and the knowledge that Mare was like him filled him with pride about her as well as with pure, egoistic relief he wasn’t the only Newblood Red in the world, and that other person was someone he loved.

The width of Mare’s ability astonished him and somehow, it let her be closer to him. _Not much longer_ , he thought, and we’ll meet again _. I’m excited to see your face when –_

He jolted when bright light flashed up, burning in his eyes. He almost dropped to the ground as he turned to the guard who literally shined. _An actual Silver shadow_. The woman began to shout, but Shade was gone from the tunnels before he made out the words, jumping against his will.

* * *

**For the first** time, teleporting left him dizzy. Not even his very first jump had been as bad; he’d rather been confused about his whereabouts and how to orientate himself than sick. Now, Shade found himself in a dim palace corridor, on his knees and breathing laboriously. He scrambled up, taking a second to find his balance. He had to lean against a wall, then pressed close to it to glance around. No one was there, but he heard shouting not far away _. Not them_ , he thought, and dashed around a corner into a room with an unlocked door.

Again, he stopped to take a few breaths. He couldn’t afford to be seen by people or cameras, thus risking not only to record his face, but also his ability, both information the Scarlet Guard needed to keep secret. At least rooms were less likely to be equipped with surveillance. What would the Silvers do if they learned a “dead” soldier like him wasn’t really dead, and involved in rebel activities? He’d only endanger comrades back at the Choke, like Eastree. But first, he had to think of his current comrades who relied on him. He _had_ to get back to the tunnels, if only he knew how.

For a start, he teleported through the walls. That alone was easy enough to control, and he went from room to room until he’d find a window which he believed would help him find the way.

_Someone could be in here_ , a voice in the back of his mind whispered. But some risk always remained, and he gulped at the idea that he’d have to attack them if worst came to worst.

He stumbled as he arrived in the sixth room because it was the exact moment the lights went on again. He dropped to the ground and robbed under a table; fortunately, he was still alone. That offered him time to explore the room a little. He’d thought to be in some kind of servants’ wing, but now he’d ended up in a large, lavish dwelling full of rich furniture, fine clothing, and other decadence. The Silver decorations with the Nortan crown and flame made him wonder if this wasn’t even a royal lodging. Had he been in storerooms before, or had the last jump covered a larger distance yet again? He cursed at his ignorance and returned to his initial plan – finding his way from the outside, yet, as he rose and went to the windows, something about the lodging irked him. Even when he looked down at the courtyard garden and located the side wings, walls and gate, the feeling didn’t let go. He couldn’t pin it down, but …

He spun on his heel, suddenly understanding. “Mare,” he whispered.

This was _her_ room. Although the place had nothing of their house in the Stilts, something gave her away, somehow, she’d made this place hers. He smiled faintly. Almost he could feel a faint tether leading to her, not far away. If he followed, would his ability bring him to her? He couldn’t do it, but just the idea lifted his spirits. Maybe this would work, maybe he experienced a new facet of teleporting – teleporting to a person. He knew he’d need that talent, rather sooner than later, so he’d be able to find and save his comrades even when he was uncertain about their exact location. But not today, and he hoped he wasn’t making a mistake in not looking for them. He stuck to the plan and thought of the other operative, Grace, waiting for the team to return, and of all he knew about her. He believed he was able to imagine her, in the tunnels beneath him which were taking shape in his mind. For a last time, he breathed in, and as he released half of it, as when shooting a gun, he jumped again. Only this time, he did it with as much intent as possible.

* * *

**The sudden shift** from the bright, warm room to the damp and dark tunnels hit him harder than the jump itself. He almost felt like grinning but didn’t forget the dire situation. He was in another part of the tunnels that told him nothing, yet he was certain to find Grace Winters around here. He didn’t see her – yet – but a Silver watch down a corridor. Shade was able to move out of sight but his worry intensified. No matter how long they’d felt to him, only a few minutes have passed since the power blackout and already more security was patrolling down here. He tried to remember what Farley had said about the radio operator Grace and where she would be waiting when he noticed a moving shadow. Guessing it was a Silver watch, he decided to move once they’d passed but just when he rose to dash off, he was grabbed from behind.

He knew not to shout but his tries to wriggle free were useless. Should he teleport? But what if he took his captor with him involuntarily?

Then his captor whispered, “rise red as the dawn,” followed by their codeword tonight.

He gave the correct reply, and the firm hold on him was loosened. He turned in relief, but the operative hissed “ _shh_ ” before he was able to say anything. It was Grace Winters, as suspected, and she guided him to her hideout that was hardly more than a hole over a ledge, tight for the two of them.

“You came from the palace?” Grace asked eventually.

He hesitated to confirm. Technically, he’d been there, but Grace had to be talking about the main operation. “No,” he said.

“Two got away so far, and I sent them on,” Grace explained. “But four are still inside, including the captain.”

It felt like a stab. He shook his head to chase away the sudden pain, keeping his mind on the cause, or at least to force his concern into reasonable lines. “So, we will help them?” he asked.

Grace grunted. Her silence made him wonder if she didn’t consider it after all. “We wait,” she declared. “It’s my job to wait until 3 am, or the return of the complete team, and to report to Command before relocating. What about your orders?”

He opened his mouth but didn’t know what to say. What were his long-term orders? Farley hadn’t said. He’d been sent to Summerton unaware of more detailed plans, but of course the Scarlet Guard Command had to be planning with him already, the Red with an ability, the _Newblood_. As they needed Mare, they needed him too. Grace only needed to message Command or the colonel to find out what to do with him, maybe there was one waiting in her feed already. He didn’t care, not right now, and

it didn’t matter, because Grace would stop him with all she had if he made a move out of the hideout, to not compromise their backup strategies. But despite her grumpy and serious expression, he realized her hands were shivering and he took one of them in his and squeezed.

It was only a gesture of empathy while he thought that if another Silver patrol threatened to discover them, he wouldn’t take the chance of jumping away again. He’d kill them to defend their road to safety.

* * *

**Shade** **noticed approach** first and alerted Grace. She jerked ever so slightly, hand on her pistol. She held it without a shred of insecurity and Shade pondered whether that was because she’d used it too often or too little to know the impact of firing a weapon. Grace considered their surroundings, then scrambled out and he followed on cramping legs. Still in the shadows, she pointed and indeed, people without the typical silhouettes of Silver watches were running at them.

He finally released his breath when he made out the shape of Kilorn, while the number of rebels smothered his relief.

_Only three._

Grace stepped forward to catch their attention. “Boreeve?” she murmured – to Farley.

Shade hissed at her sight. He also saw the third person was a vaguely familiar woman, beaten up and looking as bedraggled as the other two. All of them smelled of blood and sweat, gunpowder, treason and plot. For a second, Farley seemed too frozen to read. Her eyes drifted around, focusing on nothing until she found Shade.

She shook her head. “Killed when we were captured.”

Boreeve, that was Tristan, Farley second. No surprise she looked terrible. But knowing they’d been captured created a new stone in his belly. If Shade had looked for them in the palace, maybe Tristan would still be alive.

Kilorn hugged him from the side, and Shade leaned against him gladly. “Farley told me, but I couldn’t believe it,” Kilorn muttered. “You’re really alive.”

“I was never really dead,” he replied. “I left the army on my own to help the Guard.” He fell silent, watching Grace look over Farley and – Ann Walsh? Farley stopped the fussing and urged them on, still with that apathic expression on her face, her motions hesitant and robotic.

“What’s with her?” he wondered aloud.

“They tortured her,” Kilorn answered, loosening himself from his friend to help Ann get on. Her bruised appearance did nothing to hide her grief for Tristan, she revealed her emotions as freely as Kilorn.

Unlike Farley. Even when they fell into a jog – as fast as possible – he was unable to stop glancing at her. She seemed whole and hale, although her clothes spoke a different language. How did they get away? A valid question, only that Farley didn’t give them time for questions. He still wondered, and even more about the captain herself. She’d become unreadable to him and he couldn’t grasp it. He’d pulled her hidden name out of her, kissed, even slept with her – but now she was as closed off as ever to him, looking everywhere but at him.

He wouldn’t let her be or feel alone now, he decided. When they started to slow, he let his hand graze the back of hers. He expected nothing, only wanted to show empathy, but then she took his hand and kept holding it. He squeezed, staying tethered to her for the rest of the run. Once, he glanced behind himself to check if Kilorn noticed them. He was more perceptive than he let on, yet Shade was uncertain what to make of his expression in the dark.

* * *

**“Mare freed us,”** Kilorn said in the safehouse.” Just before the witch queen would come to ‘interrogate’ us. Mare brought this … this …”

“Singer,” Farley helped, and smirked grimly for a second.

“Singer, yes. Jacos?” Farley nodded. Kilorn continued, “Jacos made the healer sentinel treat us, well, the captain.” He cleaned his throat. “But the sentinels weren’t as distracted as Jacos thought, and one returned to shoot Mare.”

“What?!” Shade exclaimed.

“The healer helped her too,” Ann said. “But Tristan was already dead.” Kilorn patted her shoulder, but Shade felt the panic from before return and jolted upright. Farley stared at him. She was still so absent, so apathic. One was inclined to think it made her more resolute.

He knew her better now, he remembered how she’d asked him to stay behind a little longer, to have one more moment of joy before the rebellion would demand them back. He knew Diana Farley was a person, a lover, as well as a fighter, even when she tried to fool people about this.

“I’ll patrol,” Shade announced.

“Excuse me?” Grace objected.

“We need to know how safe the city is, for when we leave tomorrow,” he insisted and was already gone, but feeling Farley’s blue glare lingering on him.

* * *

**He had to** try it out, now more than ever. At least he thought of hiding his face with a scarf this time, even though it was still reckless. He needed to see Mare again, to assure she was safe. Deep down, he was fed up with the secrecy. Besides everything else the bloody Silvers and the Scarlet Guard heaved on her, she didn’t need to believe him dead, and he could remedy that at least.

The way to the palace was easy to find now, he merely jumped back along the way he’d run before. Once he barely avoided a watchman by teleporting, but he was too determined to be stopped. The hardest part was to get into the palace itself, to her particular room. Once again, he found himself hesitating. But the time for that was over. He’s _waited_ enough today, and it’d ended with one of them dead; so he let his thoughts of his sister bring him to her.

The room was dark again, with only the faintest pre-dawn colours visible from the windows. Mare was asleep, cuddled into the comforter and looking so peaceful as se only did in sleep, her breathing calm and steady. At least she had that, the ability to sleep. His exhaustion was gnawing at him while he didn’t believe he was even able to find rest. Still, he wasn’t here to watch, but to talk to her. He touched her shoulder and her eyelids fluttered. _Good_ , he thought, about to fully rouse her awake.

“You did well today too,” he whispered, and then Kilorn’s words resurfaced in his mind and froze him. _Witch queen … tortured … interrogated…_ And what had Farley said before all this? _Silver whispers aren’t a vague threat here, the witch queen is practically in Mare’s back._

Shade didn’t know how much of her mind was an open hunting ground for Elara Merandus. Apparently, Mare thought herself safe, but … was she? Farley was relieved she escaped that fate she feared the most. He’d taken care not to show himself to Silvers during his accidental adventure in the palace. Was that a waste?

He balled his fists. He didn’t want to. He wanted to speak with Mare, to have his sister back and out of the Calores’ claws. He’d prefer to take her with him right now, to hell with everything.

And where would that leave them, the Scarlet Guard and their cause?

Tristan had died for it. Shade felt like the same indecisive coward like the whole of these past hours, but in the end, he did nothing, neither revealing himself nor taking Mare away. He just vanished, into the direction of his bedraggled comrades.

* * *

**He landed outside** the safehouse, which was probably better than teleporting inside.

“Where were you?” A sharp voice. Her voice.

He turned. “I … trained.”

Farley _hmph_ ed. “Hardly the right time.”

“And why are you outside?” he retorted.

She came closer to him. It was summer, but the nights were getting colder and she was hugging herself. He saw she had cleaned herself and changed out of her tattered clothes. The smell of blood of gone, but that of gunpowder lingered. It was always on her, already a part of her as much her natural, beautiful smell. “Checking if the city is safe or in unrest, as you claimed to do,” she said.

He swallowed. “I … never mind.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Should I? You were vanished for only the quarter of an hour, must be the grace of teleporting.”

She sounded almost amused, and he felt bad for it. “I went to Mare,” he confessed like a silly, guilty child, only to relieve his conscience.

As expected, he’d stunned her and her brow creased furiously. “ _Barrow –_ “

“I left before I said anything, even before she saw me,” he said. “We can’t risk that, can we?”

She nodded and if she was the old, usual Farley, she’d give him a new order and spin on her heel, proud as a queen.

Instead she stumbled, her lip quivered, and her whole body began to shake. He touched her shoulder gently, stabilizing her. She jerked, and he thought she’d turn him away after all. But she stayed, as did he. When her shaking didn’t stop, he embraced her, holding her as close and tight as possible. While she freely leaned against him, she took some time to hug him back.

He inhaled her smell, stroking her back and her hair. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, not sure if he was being polite, sorry for her pain and torture, or sorry for Tristan. He meant it all of it, and repeated it once she started to sob.

“I’m here,” he murmured.

“I know,” she replied with a sniff.

* * *

**Grace kept watch** outside, as the only other one uncompromised, and waited for more allies to arrive. The team members who’d escaped earlier were long gone, and those remaining had to wait for the next chance to get away.

“The court’s moving,” the doves and the citizens were uttering through the morning streets, and so would the Scarlet Guard. Shade would go with them to Archeon, the capital, as Farley announced back in the house. Her voice was still husky and raw from crying but she didn’t let it show. She waved her operatives around in her bossy manner yet she still held Shade’s hand and with holding hands the two of them went to sleep for a few hours.

They were cuddling and entangled like the last night they’d spent together, but now fully dressed and anything but alone. They were so exhausted neither of them cared, as long as they could fall asleep and wake up in each other’s arms.


	6. The City of Ruins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is dedicated to "XOXO" by Casper.

**The City of Ruins**

**For the rest** of the day, they travelled in transports and boxes, on foot and through tunnels. When they came to the surface again, the warm colours of sunset lit the streets of Naercey, the city of ruins. The light created a strange kind of beauty in this place Shade had imagined as desolate, but he knew it would be stunning either way. By its greatness, and the people who lived in it despite the legends surrounding it that bespoke almost nothing but danger.

Shade had been in Naercey before, but while he was impressed anew, the rest of his group was gaping with awe and astonishment. Kilorn and Walsh stared, not even hiding their surprise while Grace did try to hide hers futilely behind her grumpy face. Diana – Captain Farley – as well. Sometimes, Shade had noticed, she let her youth show. But that occurred rarely, and today, it lasted only a minute, before she set her jaw and focused her gaze to military precision. A general’s assessment how to use and protect this location. This sanctuary.

There was no other word for it; Naercey was Red territory, untouched by Silvers, with the oppression living only in its inhabitants’ memories.

Shade touched Farley’s shoulder. She jerked and frowned at him. “Never been here before?” he teased.

“You’ve been?”

“I have.” The corners of his mouth twitched. “When I came from Tuck with the mersives, remember? The ships’ harbour is down here in the tunnels.”

It felt like a reward when her face relaxed. “Show me,” she said, then she turned to order the rest of their group to get settled. For a moment, she took his hand as they started to descend into the underground once more.

Farley greeted the Guards they met, probably even made arrangements for later with hand signs. But they were less people the deeper they went, with only a small watch directly close to the waters where a mersive broke the surface in its dark harbour.

“It’s so empty,” Shade said, “the last time I was here, dozens of people were busy with unpacking, taking stock and all that. Now it just … waits?”

“Of course it does,” Farley said, glancing at him.

“But why …?”

“Because we might need it very soon, Barrow,” she replied. “Anytime, we might need to flee, and the underwater ship can bring us away.” She looked around. “Well, most of us.” Despite the marvels of Naercey, it didn’t take her long to turn somber again, to see beyond the seeming safety and remember the ever-present hazards and threats. By now, Shade had risked his life in war and rebellion for a year and still, when he looked at Naercey, he saw a home, one created from nothing. Farley couldn’t _. She’s forgotten what a home is_ , Shade understood in the silence between them, only interrupted by the sounds of the waters.

He placed a hand on her back and she didn’t flinch away, almost leaned into his touch.

_I hope your instincts will protect us all_ , he thought as they returned to the aboveground.

* * *

**The city of** ruins was close to Archeon as well as to Gray Town, which influenced its population – and its importance. Fugitives from the techie towns were generally limited compared to other newcomers, as the surveillance was too strong, but they existed, having crossed over to Naercey for generations. With them came formerly restricted knowledge and the occasional stolen goods. But what the techies took was irrelevant to the smuggles of the Scarlet Guard and the Whistle network that had been around in Norta far longer, who’d started to travel through Naercey in the first place.

The city’s borderlands were similarly deserted as the city had been, with Silvers fearing the unknown thresholds of the supposed radiation. This hesitation made it easier for the Whistles, the true explorers of the large city and its vast outskirts.

It gave the former techies – or rather, those Reds committed to this profession – the freedom to research according to their own needs and ambitions, and this led to wonders like the mersives and the undertrain.

Shade had travelled with both, with the mersive when he had come from Tuck, and he was on the undertrain two days after they’d arrived in Naercey as they went to Archeon, the close-by capital of Norta. They were hardly more than a handful Guards, even with the technician driving the train-beast. He chuckled at anyone calling the train that – or at its flustered virgin passengers. “You’ll get used to it after a few times,” he laughed.

“But not today,” Farley said. “I’d rather Barrow, Winters and Walsh checked the tunnels, to make sure no one notices this … ‘pet’.

The technician nodded, confirming this as a usual practice. Shade gave Farley a wry smile she pretended not to see.

He would’ve liked to stay on the train, to understand it, to take pride in this Red achievement although he hadn’t taken part in its construction personally. But he was the obvious choice for this kind of job, being able to return to Naercey fast and easy via his ability.

* * *

**Shade rolled and** stretched his shoulders as he emerged from the underground hours later. He had been spared a fight, but one Silver watchman had come frighteningly close to the train tracks, so Shade was forced to lure him away from them for about an hour, mostly by using teleporting. It was late afternoon again, and the golden sunlight seemed to reflect the mood of his comrades in the city. He blinked, tired from his patrol and teleporting, yet he wasn’t truly surprised the captain had hatched a new plan in his absence. She was like that.

He quickened his steps and as her face turned to him, he thought how much he wanted to kiss her again.

_You look even more smug than usual, Dee._ It was odd, like a dream, that all of them were laughing and feeling free in these ruins.

“Barrow, you’re late,” she barked, grinning despite her tone. “Winters is already back, and we have much to discuss.”

* * *

**“Fortunately, the mersives** just brought more supplies and people, right on time for the coup.”

He gaped at her.

“Got something to say, Barrow?” Farley asked him.

He still stared at her, even as he shook his head. “No.”

“Then we’re done for now.” She rose, and her soldiers and the Scarlet Guard officers stationed in Naercey scattered again. Shade grabbed her arm before she could follow.

“We have to talk.”

“Suddenly?”

He didn’t meet her smirk. “You know why.”

She sighed. “I’m sorry.”

“Good, because you sent me away exactly when you brought my sister to Naercey.” She gulped, and he went on. “And I’m not sure why the little prince – “

“The little prince told us how to take Archeon, and the whole of Norta with it.”

“Let’s hope it – he’s – worth it.”

_“Barrow.”_ Chastisement didn’t only spoke from her voice, but from her whole body; she couldn’t let their … closeness disturb their professional relationship.

He didn’t care, and continued to glare at her. Only that no one outmatched Captain Diana Farley in staring duel. He broke the eye contact, and spun to pull her along. “You owe me one, Captain.”

“Oh?”

“Absolutely.” He searched through his things for the gadget he’d found yesterday, then glanced around the place. He found Grace Winters in the main plaza. “Winters!” he called, and moved to her. “Do you have time to make a photo? Of us two?” He held out the old camera and gestured at Farley.

“To _take_ a photo,” Grace said, but nodded.

He gave her a quick smile and walked to a boulder, but apparently, Grace’s experience with a camera wasn’t limited to expressions. She waved with her arms and shooed Shade around until she was content with him, the location, and the light and the shadows. He climbed on the ruin she chose and sat down. Farley shook her head as he beckoned her, but moved to him, remaining standing next to him while he sat on the concrete’s edge. Her head was touching his shoulder, as the rest of her body leaned against him. She laid her hand on his thigh and caused a shiver on his arms with it. He grinned, and placed his hand on her shoulder, pulling her nearer still.

“Smile,” he whispered.

“What?”

“Dee. You owe me one.”

She snorted but he saw her mouth forming into a smile. A radiant one, he guessed. He wasn’t able to see it properly; the angle was too odd. He would’ve to wait until the photo was developed to see Dee’s expression. He couldn’t wait for it, but then, he would make her smile like that on his own once again.

Grace clicked. The camera obscured her pink, freckled face so only the cloud of her red hair was visible. As she was done, he broke out of his position and kissed Dee on her head. She startled. “But … Grace – “

He laughed. “As if she doesn’t know about us, Dee. Grace Winters notices everything.” Maybe she’d thought of taking a photo of this moment, too.

Diana nodded, faux grim, but amused in truth.

“Let’s ma – take a photo of the whole team now,” he proposed out loud as he stood up.

Grace held out the camera to him when they met. “No,” she said. He blinked. “What, I won’t compromise _all_ of us with that fancy. I only agreed because you two _are_ already wanted faces.”

Farley shrugged. “Warren would’ve agreed,” she whispered into Shade’s ear before she dashed off, with a swing in her steps.

* * *

**Her amusement was** gone the next morning. They all had worried about Ann Walsh’s continued absence, and the new day brought the dim confirmation from a contact in the palace: Walsh had died, having killed herself after being captured.

That couldn’t stop any of them in their preparations, but their mood had become somber. Their fervour remained, though, and the idea of success: What if they _won_?

* * *

**The eve before** the coup, he went to Farley’s room. Naercey, despite its growing population of fugitives and rebels from the whole of Norta and further, was too huge to demand shared rooms, at least not in these last warm summer nights, and offered privacy instead. So she sat on her mattress, alone in the dim room, about to find some rest.

“I’ve waited for you,” she said.

Shade joined her, sat down opposite her. “I – “

“You should – ” they said simultaneously.

Diana gestured. _You first_.

“I want to look after my family,” he said.

“Of course. Who knows what will be after tomorrow.”

“Were you about to propose just that?” he asked.

She inclined her head, licked her lips. “I … don’t have a family. I forget. How you worry. How much you need them.”

He didn’t know what to say, so he merely took her hand and intertwined his fingers with hers. She looked up, into his eyes, and bent towards him. “I am sorry,” she said quietly. “I can’t forbid you to look after your sister. I won’t. If you want to risk meeting her, it’s your decision.”

He didn’t reply. Because he didn’t know what he’d do. He did intend to check on Mare tonight, and he thought again and again about those _others_ , those Newbloods as the Guard had dubbed them. Had it relieved Mare to learn she wasn’t the only one? She didn’t have the fortune to know about her own Newblood sibling; she still believed he was dead, and she deserved better than that.

Diane leaned her forehead against his while her thumb, absentmindedly, caressed his hand. “There will be a ship docking in Summerton, one that’s ours and going to Tuck. She will leave in the night, you can bring your family on it.

“Shade?”

He shifted his position and hugged her. “Thanks,” he muttered into her sleeve, but he doubted she needed to hear it. She hugged him back and they fell onto the mattress, entangled in each other.

He wanted her. He longed to feel her again, to lose his doubts and fears in her before they risked their lives once more, without certainty of another chance for this.

“Do we have time?” he murmured, not expecting it’d lead to anything. Yet he could taste her smile when she kissed him.

“We do,” she answered with quiet amusement. “But not very much.”

_Let’s make the best of it_ , he thought, but then he froze, being reasonable before he continued to work on her shirt. “We didn’t … pay attention the last time ... times, at all,” he said.

“No.” He could’ve sworn she was blushing. She cleared her throat. “Well, we have better equipment, ah, resources, umm, whatever, here.” She bit her lips and stretched to pull at her bag to them. “I mean I’ve prepared.”

He chuckled and kept looking into her eyes while he fumbled through her stuff to find the contraceptive.

* * *

**“I want you** to keep to the palace and its tunnels tomorrow,” she said eventually. “If you check on Mare – “

_“When._ When I check on Mare, Diana.”

She swallowed. “She won’t agree to escape with you, Shade. Even if you asked her directly. She’s committed to this as much as any of us.” She sighed. “You can scout the area, figure out escapes and patrols we don’t know about.”

“Sure.” He paused. “But Diana, I can’t jump our whole army away anyway.”

Her fingers travelled over the line of his jaw. “I know. But if we win?” She smiled faintly.

_All those ifs._

He kissed her. “What happened to your family?” he breathed.

“Not tonight. I can’t. I need my strength.” But she pulled him closer, burying her face in his shirt, and he began to stroke her back.

“Then another time, Dee. Tell me whenever you feel ready.”

She lifted her head. “You only need to come back.”

_To me_ , he believed she mouthed. His lips brushed her forehead once more. “I promise.” He pulled away and sorted his clothes. “See you at dawn, when we will rise.”

For a moment, he waited, for her agreement. For her dissent. And she kissed him again, her fingers on his neck, in his hair.

“Rise, red as the dawn,” she whispered and let go.

He vanished.

* * *

**Coming back to** the Stilts hit Shade with a pang of homesickness he hadn’t felt for years, not since the first few days after he had been conscripted and taken to war. He couldn’t allow it since, he had to stay alive, both at the Choke and among the Scarlet Guard.

Now he was home again on this September night, and even in the darkness, he felt this place. The air, the warmth, the smells, the streets and houses. But not the people. Shade was absolutely alone, and he knew the measures were the cause of it, enforcing curfew or arrests and executions. He snarled. Lucky he that he was able to teleport and thus had the privilege to walk the Stilts at night and get away with it, to relieve the memories of his home and create them anew. But he was further reminded that this place was of the past, and held no future for him.

His home town filled him with yearning that it could never fulfil; he’d have to fight for his dreams by himself, not by lingering here. It was only a melancholic thought during the night before everything might change.

He wasn’t able to believe it in, not fully. In the cause, himself, Mare, Diana? Certainly, but true success? That was different and unimaginable, an almost unreachable idea – but one he struggled for with all he had.

He found the Barrow house in darkness, only illuminated by moonlight. Not needing it, he had turned off his torch a while ago, having put it back into the supply bag he’d prepared for his family in a hurry. Some of his things were inside, too, like the film with the photo of Diana and him. He hoped his stuff would be safer with his family.

He climbed the ladder to the door and knocked, then cursed under his breath. What would his family think, when someone came for them in the middle of the night, with the measures in place? They might fear for their lives, when he just as well could teleport inside and wake them gently.

He waited, not expecting them to open the door when they had to suspect a raid. He took a breath, readying himself to jump inside as the door opened after all.

The lamp in her hand revealed his mother, worried, worn and proud, awake and exhausted. He gulped.

The light flashed on his face and his mother lowered it quickly. “’Night, Mom,” he said quietly. “I know, I know. The rumours of my death were wildly exaggera – “

“Shade…!” she called huskily and embraced him, pulling him into the house sooner than he knew it. He held on to her, hugging her as tightly as she. She was so small, even tinier than before as he’d grown in this long, hard year, but she was so strong, too. He saw it again tonight. He’d thought she was in shock when she shook her head ever so slightly, saying nothing, but he started to wonder if anything was able to surprise, to truly shock and overwhelm Ruth Barrow by now, after Mare, after the life she’d lived.

She loved her family fiercely, and she was a survivor. Shade hoped his mom, along with Dad, Tramy, Gisa, and Bree, would take leaving their home for good, maybe for forever, with as much composure.


	7. Whitefire

**Whitefire**

**“Captain.”**

**The insistence** of the word drew her out of her thoughts. They were focused on the way ahead, through the tunnels of Archeon leading under the Caesar Square and into the Whitefire Palace. Already her soldiers had parted into groups, some keeping watch just outside of Archeon, while others were preparing the detonations of the bridge. Farley, of course, was going right into Whitefire with her team, to where Mare Barrow and Maven Calore were expecting her and where Shade was waiting to reunite.

“Captain,” the call was repeated – by Grace Winters – and Farley finally glanced over her shoulder at Grace and her sullen face.

“We can’t afford to have loud and long discussions here,” Farley said sharply.

“We haven’t covered this yet,” Grace insisted. “Do we kill the little Tibe if he says no to Barrow?”

Farley sighed. “No,” she snapped, quietly. “No.”

Grace frowned. “But – “

“I know the idea’s tempting, but it wouldn’t help us at all. We’d only take the blame so Maven can wash his hands clean to become the new heir. He’d have to blame the Guard for an assassination, he has no other option to save himself.” Farley turned her gaze ahead again, no need to ascertain Grace’s probably still gloomy expression. She had considered this scenario before, and calculated the risks. They were legion, and every one of them needled her. This whole operation was incredibly rash, yet she, the other officers, and even the Colonel at Tuck, had decided it was worth it. Now her mind always went back to eventual escape plans. It was what she was used to do after all. Hit and run. Take what you can get and bring everyone – as many as you can – away to safety.

Yet in this moment, they walked straight toward a confrontation that could cost them everything, but that was the point: If Tiberias Calore VII agreed to the coup, the Scarlet Guard would stay and become his equal partner. Farley would shake his hand and start to sign treaties; she’d be the representative and the face of the Scarlet Guard in Norta – or the one to lose her head in the attempt.

She didn’t know if she was elated or frightened to her bones.

“Does the same apply to the king and queen?” Grace asked in addition.

“Yes.” Farley paused. “We run if Calore objects, you know which way. If he agrees and all goes to plan, the king and queen will be arrested, and awaiting trial if they don’t comply. The same goes for every noble Silver.” She clicked her tongue. “We’ve talked about _that_.” Grace bit her lip. “Opposing Silvers will be fought,” she went on, “and hopefully Calore will do that for us. So they do have the choice to follow his new orders.”

Her soldiers nodded readily although their doubts and fears were visible beneath the expectant concentration. As long as they maintained the latter, Farley couldn’t blame them. Was siding with the royal house and their would-be Red Queen the right option? Even if this coup succeeded, the arrangement had something tenuous. But which kind of diplomacy and negotiating wasn’t like that?

Tiberias was an ally, a shining hope for change, Mare had insisted, and so had Maven. Although Tiberias had looked on as Farley had been tortured. But Farley had also witnessed the Maven’s love and awe for his brother when he’d proposed the scheme, and they were another reason why she didn’t intent to kill Tiberias: Maven didn’t want him dead, and keeping him alive became a condition for their cooperation. That was acceptable, but she chewed on it too, that they had to rely on keeping Maven, his brother, and who knew how many other Silvers happy to get this started. _Diplomacy is a bitch_ , she cursed inwardly. But at least negotiating was less life-threatening than fighting.

* * *

**The way Maven** talked about his brother, how his expression changed when it came to him, touched Farley still, had woken her buried memories. Madeline had looked at her like that. Her little sister, only fourteen, had cheered her on four years ago, proud and excited on her behalf when Diana would run point during an operation – together with their father – for the first time. Madeline was too young to participate in that manner, they’d all agreed, but she was enthusiastic as the whole family, as every Scarlet Guard member in their village.

Her mother had always encouraged Diana, too. Clara Farley had run point before, then she’d switched to organize and run operation in the base and at home. Before Diana and her father left, her mother hugged her, gave her advice and said she loved her.

It was the last time they talked. When she returned to the village, it was gone, flooded and destroyed, and Farley family was dead, leaving only two golden necklaces behind.

_Damn._

Farley kicked debris in lieu of cussing aloud. Not that that was any quieter. _Last night I told Shade I didn’t want to think about my family, now the bloody princes remind me of them!_ She couldn’t afford this kind of distraction, no matter her doubts regarding the Calores.

* * *

**They were almost** at the palace now and slowed to access only the correct tunnels. It was a matter of minutes and her heartbeat accelerated. _Will I escape the whisper queen’s claws again?_ she wondered. At least, her mother and sister had been spared that. They were murdered in retaliation, but they hadn’t been forced to betray the Guard, their comrades, their family. _That’s never been a comfort_ , she thought as she led the way up to the highest underground floor.

How did Maven deal with that, living so close to a whisper, who was his own mother? Being interrogated by a whisper was Farley’s greatest fear, always had been. Ignorance increased it. Mare had endured the queen’s whispers, but she hadn’t told anyone how it was.

Faint grey light fell through the drain, and marked their destination. The garrison of Whitefire. Farley opened the hatch, accessed the ground, and revealed herself.

* * *

**She counted the** seconds until the detonation, staring at the doomed bridge with Mare and Maven next to her. Excitement filled her, making it easier to hide the awkwardness of standing in the open, an invitation to get shot. Mare had to be used to it, but she exuded nervousness, too. _She’s worried_ , Farley realized. Probably about Kilorn, yet there was no time to tell her he was with the bombing unit, visibly in action but impossible to reach. He’d apprenticed as a fisher, but he had a hand for bombs – like the one to blow up in three, two – BOOM!

The silence of the early morning ended in a blink. Sirens wailed, floodlights went on. People shouted and heavy steps stomped over concrete. Her instincts screamed at her to run run run. But she balled her firsts and straightened her spine. _Stay and claim your place_ , she reminded herself as the crown prince arrived. Uncertain smiles began to bloom on Mare and Maven’s faces, full of expectation. Tiberias stepped nearer, stunned, soldiers flanking him.

Mare stumbled forward, almost falling into his arms. Farley held her breath, and made herself release it. Instead she held on to her rifle and almost gave in to the urge to smile, too. Just one moment and everything changed –

Until –

The prince said –

_No._

The army that was supposed to fight for their cause turned their guns at the Scarlet Guard. On her. Despite the orders she’d given, her finger landed on the trigger of her rifle. She almost did it, but Maven screamed at her to run and her senses returned. She scrambled behind a pillar, searching for cover and another drain as she pulled out her communicators, then frantically typed the commands to abort mission and evacuate, before smashing the gadgets to pieces so they couldn’t be used to trace the Guard. Even’s Shade _. I can’t call him to save me now_.

She rose and gave the leftovers a last kick and jumped into a drain. She heard the shouts and gunshots trailing her, but she ran on, as she always did.

* * *

**Farley couldn’t see** her comrades, to her relief, which meant they had to be escaping. She couldn’t say the same about her pursuers. She ran and rushed behind corners to evade them while still trying to give off shots at them, hoping for random hits.

She used a chance for taking a deep breath when it presented itself. She could flee, like – hopefully – the rest of the guard. Or she didn’t. The tunnels forked here, out of the city or deeper into the palace area. She chose the latter. It was where Mare Barrow had to be. 

* * *

**No matter how** fast she was, how many times she shot, how many turns she took, she didn’t lose the Silvers trailing her. Obviously, they knew the palace better than her, especially the side corridors she tried to hide in. All she could do was attack when she had the chance while she went further into Whitefire Palace, but that was a game with bad odds that would only work until she met a magnetron who was as good as impervious to bullets and blades. She could only trust her reflexes to warn her of her tails and those palace security officers she happened to run into. So when a door opened, she slid into a dim entryway and aimed – until a shot come out of the door and smashed a camera on the ceiling.

Her muscles tightened, but the man exiting the room wasn’t a Silver officer, but a Red servant, already slipping his pistol into his jacket again. She recognized him. “Mark,” she whispered, identifying him as one of their spies at court.

“Captain, what are you doing here?” he asked quietly.

“Barrow,” she said merely, and cleared her throat. “Any idea where she is?”

He shook his head. “I’ve heard she and the prince are brought to the king and queen, but I don’t know where.”

“Good, thanks.” That had to be enough.

“Wait,” Mark, said, doubtful. “Can I help you?”

Her face fell. He saw, didn’t he? That this wasn’t really about Mare, but a distraction. A suicide mission. She couldn’t expect to actually find Mare and free her. She could only lure the Silvers away from her fleeing comrades. She hadn’t even paid attention to the cameras, because there’d been no point in avoiding them. She’d raised their flag and given her face to the cause, knowing it made her a target. Now she had become one literally.

He understood that. “I’ll remain in the other wing,” he said.

“Keep your cover,” she said, aware she could hardly tell him to protect himself when she didn’t do the same.

* * *

**Farley believed to** be getting closer; the richer furniture gave her that hint. But she was also tiring and bleeding from several lesser wounds. It was mere luck she’d come so far and was still alive, yet she grinded her teeth and went on. She jumped down stairs and dashed to the right, just as a bullet brushed the corner. _Not yet, assholes_ , she thought, and ran down the most lavish corridor so far, filled with paintings and porcelain displayed on shiny wood. Her heart beat faster as she saw only a wall at the end of the corridor. _No_. Against all odds, she hoped for another branch-off, not believing such a pretty place led into nothing. There were even chairs. Who’d sit down at a dead end?

And still she reached a wall, and only a wall. Her fingers brushed its tapestry as she had to stop, and she wished to drill through it and the stone behind. _What if Mare is just on the other side?_

It was futile. There was no way to run.

_At least they died for something_ , her father had said about her mother and Madeline once. His words still made her angry, so incredibly angry. _This isn’t the point_ , she thought. Would they apply to her too now?

All that was left to her was taking as many enemies as she was able to with her. She had enough ammunition, at least. She never lacked it after it had run out on her one time, years ago, when it hadn’t even been vital.

She heard the steps of the approaching Silvers and glanced at the window. It was diamondglass and on the fourth floor, and they might guess she’d go for it and hurt herself with a dodged bullet. Idiots.

Farley turned and immediately shot two times. They never expected that she didn’t hesitate and cave in fear.

Three Silvers were coming for her, in front of a force about twelve farther back. One of the three fell dead, another stumbled after a stray hit. The third one stood frozen. Farley aimed at her, but as her finger touched the trigger, the gun disintegrated in her hands.

A magnetron.

A feeling of doom climbed up her throat, before the magnetron yanked at the rest of her weapons and destroyed Farley’s stance. Several knives flew around the corridor, some stabbing a painting and a pistol crushed a porcelain vase. Then the magnetron pulled Farley of her feet.

She fell hard. Meanwhile, the rest of the force had arrived _. Damn damn damn_. She forced herself together. One knife remained in her boot, overlooked by the young magnetron girl. Farley rose, threw the knife, and tackled the magnetron, a slight person who went down easily.

Farley gave her a kick as she stood up and straightened her posture. “Can’t decide who to kill me?” she screamed at the strangely immobile soldiers. “Or are you scared – ”

Too fast for her to notice, a blow to her head made her ears ring. She lost her footing and fell backwards, into the chest of another foe.

A swift, she figured, was in front of her, and starting to hit her faster than she was able to anticipate. Not that she had a chance to dodge the blows, as the one behind her pressed hands against her ribcage so hard she was unable to breathe. A strongarm.

“No need to decide,” said the swift with a vile smirk. Yes, she understood that. Silvers didn’t kill just out of necessity. They killed to humiliate.

From the corners of her eyes, she saw a spear taking shape, growing bigger and bigger. The magnetron must’ve recovered, and prepared to finish her.

_It’s over._

Next thing she heard were two heavy thumps. Then the gloating swift fell, and the strongarm let go of her, too sudden for her to find her feet.

She fell on her hands and knees and gasped, deeply. She was barely able to lift her head or to make sense of what she saw. The hallway flickered before her swollen, blinking eyes as more and more Silvers dropped. Gunshots thumped through the air that she more felt than heard with her ringing ears.

It took her an eternity to understand, to realize _Shade_ was killing a dozen Silvers by teleporting between them, finishing off each of them with a single stab or bullet. He was too fast to get killed, she’d thought once. Now he showed he was too fast to be kept from being the killer, either. _I’ve never considered he could …_ would _do this_. And he did it to save her.

Shade swung the knife in his left and slit the throat of the last soldier. The man stumbled, and so did Shade, too stunned to make a second move. But it wasn’t necessary. Instead, Shade teleported behind him and the soldier fell, dead, after all.

Farley got to her knees and stared, as frozen as Shade was. Golden light fell on him from a window in the roof, a strange sight among the horrible scene. He blinked at the carnage he’d created, catching his breath, lowering his hands. The right one held on to a pistol, loosely, until he dropped it and it clanked on the ground. She flinched, expecting a stray bullet, but soon the silence returned as if nothing had happened while they staying unmoving.

Shade still held the knife in his left, tightly, stiffly, as if it was latched onto him. It was the knife she’d thrown in desperation earlier on, and he must’ve found it when he arrived here.

_For me_ , she thought. _He came to save me. Killed for me_.

She rose with a wince. She staggered toward him and finally felt an inkling of relief when he looked up, into her eyes, with his emotions starting to return. Only that he looked like he was going to be sick, even as he mouthed her name.

She lifted her arms to embrace him, but hesitated when she saw her hands. They were red with her own blood, so different from his. Silver blood stained his clothes, his face, his hands.

As if he was one of them. And wasn’t he more like them than like her? A powerful, deadly, cold-blooded fighter that a Red could never –

His expression changed as he read into her hesitation and understood: He’d scared her.

She gulped and pulled him close to her. She breathed in his smell – now mixed with that of blood and gunpowder – and brushed through his hair. For a moment, she allowed her tears to run, to shut her eyes and be careless.

He hugged her back after a second. The hand on her back was warm and encouraging, reminding her she’d keep going. And so would he.

But, she noticed, his other hand still hadn’t let go of her blade.

“It’s okay,” she muttered. “Thank you. You made it. You saved me.” She hoped that calmed him, unlike her, who was drowning in guilt. All this was her fault, everyone killed today died because of her, who’d fallen so easily into this trap of ambition and rash, dangerous action. Already, the worries blared in her mind once more. Her soldiers, comrades, the refugees in Naercey. And Naercey itself. The city was compromised and even with the messages she’d sent, she didn’t fool herself into believing all would make it out safely.

She could only try her best to protect them after her mistake, and she’d lingered here too long already. She couldn’t lose herself in his arms forever, like she wished to. She didn’t deserve it, so she pulled away. “Come,” she said. It frightened her how small her voice sounded.  “There’s more to do.” Shade nodded. “Like Mare,” she added. “We have to get her out.”

“Yes,” he uttered with a choke, and determination flashed in his eyes. He straightened his posture, concentrated again, and Farley pilfered the floor for any usable weapons left. Moving continued to hurt her, and she doubted that would get better once the adrenaline wore off. There would be no Silver healer today. Nor did she look forward to teleporting, but still she touched Shade’s arm to show when she was ready.

He wasn’t. Instead, he seemed panicked. “I can’t find her,” he said, “I don’t know where … ”

“Don’t …” she began, but a new shock went through her, too. They couldn’t leave Mare behind, not now when they had a chance. For the cause, for Mare, for Shade. Farley owed them that.

“We will find her,” she insisted.

He shook his head. “I can’t find her, Diana. I could before, and jump to you and Mare, but today …” he left off, and she wondered if this was why he’d come for her, and not for this sister: She had been easier to find.

That relieved her. At least she didn’t need to feel guilty because Shade chose her over Mare and everyone else, if he’d acted rashly and on instinct.

As if she hadn’t been rash on a thousand times more.

She caressed his arms to reassure him, to encourage him, and he gave her a weak smile _. He’s glad he saved me_ , she thought. She didn’t deserve it, but she would save Mare in return, and the Scarlet Guard with her. The bitter taste of failure and guilt overwhelmed every other of her feelings, including her love for Shade, and urged her to go on.

“Come,” she repeated, more forceful now. “We can’t stay here, but we will get Mare out of this city and we will survive.”

Shade looked way too hopeful, too trusting. “I promise you,” she said, determined to earn off at least part of that trust.

 


	8. Returning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _FYI, I haven’t read the Shade short story yet, so comparisons are futile. Any canon divergences – or blatant similarities – are happening by pure chance. If there are blatant similarities, I’ll grin up to the moon, and if there’re divergences – well, I’ve been working on these headcanons for two years and can’t throw everything overboard at this point ;-)_

**He still had** his ability after all, or they couldn’t have had teleported out of Whitefire into the tunnels.

Diana let go of his hand and Shade snorted at his former doubt, which had been stupid to begin with. How could his ability have left him when, just minutes ago, he’d used it to kill a dozen Silvers?

He stemmed his bloody hands against the damp wall. Almost he was able to pretend his hands weren’t stained with blood but only with common dirt. Dried into black, Silver blood looked as ugly as its Red variant, and its smell made him as sick. Shade tried to clean off the worst of it with the condensed water on the tunnel wall, not caring that it was dirty in its own way, if only it helped him not to throw up.

Diana seemed as if she’d like to throw up as well, whether from the horrible battle, teleporting, or due to her numerous wounds, he could not say. She leaned against the wall, exhausted. Her head was thrown back, her palm rested on her stomach, on her bruised ribcage. The older wound on her cheek was torn again.

He took a deep breath, another attempt to calm himself, to get loose from the weight on his shoulders, both from what he’d already done and what he was still about to do. _Save Mare._

He had to focus on that, on his ability. But still, she was nowhere he was able to jump to, if she even lived. He sighed. “Come,” he said to Diana, and offered his hand. “If not to Mare, I can bring us to Kilorn.”

Slowly, sheshook her head. “Spare your power,” she declined. “Nor would we get on the train now.” With a groan, she stemmed herself away from the wall and stumbled toward him – again, without talking his hand. “There’s a safe house in Archeon that’s closer.” She looked at him, her gaze once more burning with intent. “Hopefully, with an informant who knows what the hell has happened in the meantime.” She told him where to go, and in the end, she touched his palm with such a reluctance that he barely felt her fingers at all.

* * *

**“King Maven was** hailed even before everyone knew the old king was dead,” Will Whistle told them in the bare, but comparatively comfortable safe house. “And then, it was more important to announce the arrests of the murderer and traitor prince Tiberias, and of Mare Barrow, the fraud. They’re in the Bowl of Bones now,” he added, along with the details of the morning’s shifting events.

“The arena’s cells are made of Silent Stone, negating abilities,” Will finished.

Shade’s eyes widened. “What?”

“To assure no interference, besides from those Arvens. They can tolerate the silence, as they’re somehow involved in its creation,” Will explained.

Shade buried his face in his hands. “That must be why I can’t get to her…” he muttered.

Will cleared his throat and Shade raised his head, seeing Farley nod at Will. As if she could hide any of her own shock coming with Will’s revelations. If anything, she seemed tenser than before. “Anything else?” she asked.

“I don’t understand any of this,” Shade burst out. “Farley, you said the crown prince said no to you, to _any_ kind of coup. Why would he kill his father?”

Farley opened her mouth, but he went on, “Was it brotherly affection? If not Mare, did he want to save at least his brother from prison?”

Will cackled. “Oh no, there’s no love lost between the Calore brothers, Shade. If you let me finish, please?” he chided him, turning serious again. “Just a minute before you two arrived, the execution was announced. Of Mare _and_ Tiberias. Seems like our new King Maven prefers a specific kind of feast for his coronation.”

Shade frowned, but Farley left for the bathroom with a rushed “excuse me”.

He stared after her. “She has to take care of her injuries,” he said.

Will shrugged. “Shade, you see, it probably has to do with the whisper queen. Everything must have. Likely … Maven’s whole recruitment was a trap, planned by the queen.”

Shade cussed, then calculated. It seemed so obvious in hindsight, but … well, he’d never spoken to Maven, only believed in Farley’s reluctant trust in him.

“Then we did everything wrong,” he said quietly.

Will moved over, and briefly touched Shade’s knee in reassurance. He didn’t like that, and suddenly, he understood Diana’s distance that denied any kind of comfort or closeness. He straightened his posture, shaking Will off. “The battle isn’t lost,” he claimed. “We still can – have to – do something.”

Will’s answering smile was mirthless, and Shade wondered how long and full of relapses Will’s own struggle had been.

“Indeed,” he heard Farley say, who was just returning from the bathroom. She’d gotten rid of her bloody and torn jacket, her shirt baring bruised and bandaged skin. She tried her best to appear commanding, although that was obviously difficult for her. She even stood uneven.

“As important as Mare Barrow is,” she glanced at Shade, “our priority is evacuating Naercey. Will you assist us with your skill and connections there, Will Whistle?”

The corners of Will’s mouth twitched. “Sure, Captain.”

* * *

**Haste and urgency** had taken over Naercey. Of course, Shade and Farley weren’t the first to return to Naercey, although they hadn’t been sure if the news of threat and betrayal had reached their comrades. But they had to know enough to warn the inhabitants, so the evacuation could begin. People were moving from dwelling to dwelling and transports were loaded and leaving. Shade offered his help and was put to work fast enough, shortly briefed that transports were sent off single and in irregular intervals to remain as inconspicuous as possible.

“The mersives have left too, and will return soon,” a woman told him. “There’re only so many safe houses in the surroundings, and the mersives can go to larger bases.”

Shade nodded and went on to follow his instructions. The road ahead was less important to him than going back to save Mare. He knew he didn’t do as well as he could, with his hands shaking and his thoughts straying off like his eyes that searched for familiar faces that appeared in the distance and flickered away from his blinking, tired, gaze.

* * *

**He couldn’t believe** it was only early afternoon, still the same day, when his group released him. There was no time to rest, and too much to do to save as many as possible. He felt so exhausted, not least because of his teleporting fight in the morning, although the lack of sleep they all had suffered took its visible toll as well.

_And the uncertainty about Mare_ , he thought, then yawned and stretched.

“Hey.”

He flinched too hard. Even as he turned and saw Farley, his heart continued to beat faster. _It’s just the exhaustion_ , he told himself. But that was a lie. He felt unguarded at every moment, his confidence was shattered and he was overwhelmed by danger and forlornness.

Farley hardly looked different, certainly not better. She’d finally changed into fresh clothing, but wore her wounds visibly, including a careful, tired stance.

_So different from the woman from last night._

She rolled her shoulders. “Time to talk about Mare,” she said. “Well, _I_ have time. You?”

He nodded, then cleared his throat. “If not, I’d make some.”

She tilted her head. “Of course.” She smiled wryly. “I’m not of much help here, so all my focus is on Mare now.” He blinked. “You know, since I’m at fault for all this …” Her grimace had to be painful with her injuries, with the way it stretched the old wound on her jaw, re-opening the cut he’d stitched himself.

“What?”  he gasped. She stared him down until he shook his head. “I understand, but … we all agreed to the operation. Especially the other officers.”

“ _Oh sure_ ,” she hissed. “So far, Naercey isn’t under attack, but once it happens, when Maven, his witch of a mother, or whoever the fuck is in charge now, starts it, I’ll gladly blame _them_. For now, these people are losing their homes, Shade. Whether they flee or risk staying, I brought this upon them, with my arrogance and foolishness.”

It was easy to see beneath her grim face and dark humour. He knew she had a point. But he also noticed how much she needed to say this, to confess and acknowledge her guilt to someone.

He stepped toward her, reaching out with his hand. She flinched, maybe out of pain, maybe because she was still scared of him. But then she leaned into his touch, let him cup her mostly uninjured left cheek. Her gaze seared him and he believed he saw in it a yearning for his closeness.

“It’s quite self-absorbed and _arrogant_ to take all the blame onto yourself, Captain Farley,” he said quietly, before she moved away. Eyes downcast, she gulped and her expression changed from bitter to sad.

_She wants me_ , he thought, _only that she thinks she doesn’t deserve to be with me_.

She looked up with a snort. “Mare,” she reminded him.

“How could I forget?” he said.

* * *

**She irked him** , no, almost angered him. She was playing him again with the way she ignored him and their relationship. She freely wallowed in her own guilt and became distant to “punish” herself, but what about him, and his sins? He’d killed today, many people, and he didn’t know how to deal. He was back at the Choke, in the bleakest days of his life, shocked over those Lakelanders he’d killed there. Today, they’d been Silvers instead of Reds, yet they’d died for his self defense as well. It didn’t change the disgust, nor the dark pit of shame he felt that made him doubt he was right to be here, to be a rebel fighting with all he had.

_I can do this_ , he told himself, _I’ve proved it already._

_I only do not enjoy it._

He wished he could talk to Diana. He was sure, believing he’d already witnessed it, that she wasn’t perfectly okay with all of it either. But she continued to avoid him, so he went to Kilorn who had no such qualms, and was happy to see his friend, to give him a hug and to plan to free Mare.

Kilorn was occupied with packing the explosives that were to be used in smaller amounts, piece by piece. With his nimble hands, Kilorn showed quite a talent for it, one he’d used in the morning too, when they’d destroyed Archeon’s bridge. Shade couldn’t match and Kilorn taunted him about it. Jokingly. Softly. Shade didn’t know how Kilorn managed it, to be funny despite all _this_ , and yet he was grateful for it.

“You’re staring after Farley like some lost puppy,” Kilorn remarked the next time his shaking fingers dropped something. Shade cursed and Kilorn took it away from him, shaking his head. “No use here,” he muttered.

Shade cleared his throat. “What do you mean? She’s not even here.”

Kilorn shrugged. “But you search for every little glimpse of her, instead of looking at the work.”

“Sorry,” he murmured, his head lowered in embarrassment, and to hide his blush. He still felt Kilorn’s gaze on him. Then he rose. “Mare is our priority,” he claimed.

Kilorn nodded, “Of course.” Yet his face appeared so curious, so understanding that Shade was tempted to blurt everything out. He opened his mouth, tongue tingling. He wanted to talk about it, about her, about them. But in the end, he lacked the words to describe it. What was between them now? Were they in love? In a relationship? He could say what they did, or had done, but that wasn’t what he really craved to figure out.

Kilorn began to smile, still soft and not making fun of him. He was happy for Shade, whatever for, and for now, that was enough.

Shade squeezed his hand. “If I’m so useless, I better take a rest,” he said and took his leave.

* * *

**He had every** reason to be tired and still, he paced Naercey for a while first. If he was honest, he just wished to encounter Diana again, by accident, so he could claim he kept his distance as she seemed to wish. But the sun started to set and he longed to rest like he’d told Kilorn. He entered the building where most of the Scarlet Guard were staying, if on packed bags now. Shade prowled the corridors, noticing how his steps slowed the closer he came to Diana’s room, where they’d spent the last night together. Although “night” was hardly accurate, given how short the episode had been. It seemed so long ago now, his sense of time warped by the onslaught of the morning.

In front of her room, he stopped. He wasn’t sure what to say, but now he was here, he could at least tell her to go to bed after this awful day. That woman never considered her own needs.

He took a deep breath and entered. Immediately, he froze on the threshold and gaped. Because she wasn’t up and planning or giving orders, but asleep on her pallet. Weapons were placed around her, easy to grab, but she didn’t stir. Shade hadn’t been quiet. If she was as alert as the weapons indicated, she should’ve woken up. Yet she slept on without a tremor, more at peace than he’d ever seen her. He couldn’t imagine she’d ever intentionally let down her guard in that manner, so only exhaustion could’ve taken its toll and she’d relented.

As much as that relieved him, as stunned as he was, it meant he had no reason to stay. He respected her privacy and left to let her sleep.

* * *

**The next morning** , the sky was overcast with foreboding, dark clouds. The air felt heavy with heat and humidity, adding another weight onto the backs of those left in Naercey. All of them, whether soldier or civilian, cast glances around, at the sky, into the distance, as if they expected the assault to arrive from the air or on the ground at any second. Even when Captain Farley roused her soldiers, giving them their orders and instructions for this operation. Shade listened and tried to maintain and show determination, but like the rest, his whole body was tense, and his eyes wandered furtively just the same.

“Rise, red as the dawn!” Diana finished with a shout and Shade and the others fell in.

They’d lost; they’d been down. But they’d go on. Always.

* * *

**The drive with** the undertrain continued in similar fashion, an odd blend of weariness and enthusiasm. When the train reached its hidden stop, the team members jumped off with careful motions. It was a little walk to the Bowl of Bones, but it was also safer this way.

“Kill or take out any patrols you encounter,” Farley ordered, with gritted teeth. _Strange to kill on the way to safe someone else._ Shade didn’t think her nap had been restorative enough, if anything, she looked worse and he could only hope she felt better.

“We should be fast enough their absence should be irrelevant,” she went on, “but we have to use Maven’s neglect of the tunnels as long as possible. For now, he has other jobs to do before he can – ” She stopped as Shade spun around in front of her, halting as well.

“Why don’t you stay back, Captain?” he said.

“What – “

“Aren’t you injured enough already?” He looked her over, eyes lingering on her visible limp. He grabbed her by the shoulders. “Someone has to secure the way back to the train,” said he. She opened her mouth, but he continued. “No need to have everyone close to the detonations,” he insisted, staring into her eyes. “Those are often a strain on bystanders, no matter the precautions.” She gaped, not believing he challenged her, told her, who always walked to the front, to stay behind. But he’d decided he would win this one glaring duel against her. And eventually, her gaze waned.

“Take them and run,” she said snidely. “I guess you don’t need me to carry those two.”

He nodded and before he got on, he took her hand and squeezed it. “See you in a few minutes.”

Her sneer softened slightly.

* * *

**It took longer** than a few minutes. Once they’d reached the space beneath the arena, the techie among the group produced a screen and as fast as he was, he needed a moment to find pictures of the events above. As they watched, the detonation specialist hesitated to act. “Fight’s too unclear,” he insisted, but Shade saw more than one finger on the triggers after the bombs had been placed. It didn’t make him any less nervous. His fingers and toes twitched, and the throbbing pulse of his blood drowned out the sounds around him.

Kilorn touched his hand in reassurance, and after a thankful glance, Shade started to focus back on his comrades’ discussions as his eyes fixed on the screen where he saw Mare dancing in a lethal battle.

Finally, the metal girl ran away, leaving the arena almost empty but for the condemned. “What are you waiting – ” Shade cried out, but a guard held up a hand to halt him.

The techie pointed at the screen; at the darkening sky, to be exact.

“Get ready to trigger ten seconds after the first lightning strike,” the lead detonator commanded. Indeed, the sky was lit up white and purple with lightning before a minute had passed.

Silence fell upon them, only broken by a few gasps until the thunder began to rumble, audible even down here, even over Shade’s hearing protection and his rushing blood.

Just seconds later, another kind of thunder reverberated through the tunnels, the sound of explosions timed to be unremarkable in the lightning storm.

Unremarkable to those above, hopefully. Not to Shade, not to the team. Shade grabbed onto anything he could grasp, and still he stumbled from the recoil. So did the others, and they were shaking and blinking and hugging themselves and each other, hoping the ringing in their ears and the dizziness were temporary.

The detonations were successful, and now, there was a small hole in the ceiling, creating a direct view to the sky and into the arena.

Shade crawled toward the opening. No one followed yet, some of the team had actually been thrown back. For a moment, he closed his eyes, relieved he’d made Diana stay back. Then he reached the hole, pulled himself up, and the first thing he saw was a lightning strike hitting the ground just two meters away from him. His sister Mare was merely another short distance away.

Shade began to grin.

The little distance was still potentially deadly, he knew. Soldiers were marching into the arena, guns ready. Mare, the prince next to her, continued to bring the lightning from the sky into the arena to halt her opponents. But she strained under the effort, not able to go on like this for much longer. That didn’t quench Shade’s amazement at seeing Mare’s power in the flesh for the first time, made glorious rather because it was hard on her. But the threat combined with the rush of his comrades as they joined him sobered him.

Shade hadn’t touched his pistol. But the others, Kilorn being one of them, were less reluctant. They shot the enemy soldiers, taking down many by this absolute surprise, but not enough to eventually defeat them.

_We’re back to hit and run._

Shade used the chance of the moment when Mare was out of the center of attention for a second and jumped toward her, grabbing her and the prince to vanish at the next breath.

* * *

**A few more** bombs secured their escape, smashing parts of the tunnels as a result, as Shade couldn’t hope to teleport all of them back to the train. He would if he had to, now that others carried Mare and the prince as they ran. Shade glanced at her at every other second, worried by her unconsciousness. He told himself she was taking her first teleport as badly as Diana, but Mare was no less injured than her either. What the combined shocks had done to her remained to be seen.

The manacled prince had woken, unlike Mare, as they reached the undertrain. They had to shove him forward as he beheld the vehicle, although he didn’t stall in a way that sabotaged them or their escape.

Getting in and getting started was a matter of heartbeats under Farley’s command. She didn’t display excitement over the success apart from the smile that lasted a split second when she saw Mare, now carried in Shade’s arms. Even when she glanced at him every now and then during the drive, she stayed next to the prince, keeping watch over him like he was her personal trophy.

Once, Kilorn touched his shoulder in relief, a tear rolling down his cheek. He needed a moment to look at Mare cradled on Shade’s lap, before he was urged to resume some errand. It was merely to maintain alertness, Shade guessed, as the danger wasn’t over, might not ever be. He leaned back, eyes closed, finally feeling the greatest weight lifted off him, as he and Mare were finally together again.

That small peace, however, vanished as he opened his eyes, and by chance, found Diana’s gaze. It spoke of the gravity of the things to come, and Shade inclined his head in understanding.

Hitting and running and fighting would continue, and they had no idea how the game had changed, now that Maven Calore had taken the throne of Norta by betraying his family, the Scarlet Guard, and Mare.

Then Mare opened her eyes.

* * *

**_A/N 2:_** _And so we've reached the end of_ Red Queen _. There are some holes between the one-shots I wrote for_ Glass Sword _that I might fill, although I believe the canon short story covers similar same points. I don't know if I'll compete there, I guess I might as well simply bow to the perfection it is ;-)_

 


	9. Past Kissing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> During Glass Sword chapter 10. Referring to the canon "Bright Shadow" short story.

**She pulled away** from Shade’s kiss. His following gasp was more felt than seen in the early night in the woods. Farley felt tree bark in her back and smelled the pines around them in the clearing filled with shadows. The place gave her a pleasurable shiver, and woke want in her. Or was that rather due to the air she shared with Shade, and to his hands laying on her curves between her hips and waist? It was like his hands were made to touch her there. She didn’t want him to let go, she wished the fingers she was sure went under her shirt explored her further.

Her own hands rested on his chest, feeling the bandage on his shoulder as well as his heartbeat. It was hard to make out his face in the twilight, but she saw that even now his eyes gleamed under his frown, and the way he chewed on his lips made her desire to kiss him again.

Gently, she shoved him away.

He stepped back, carefully balancing on his good leg as he reached beside her – almost, but not quite touching her – to grab his crutch. She moved aside a little while her gaze rested on him.

Eyebrow quirked, he asked, “am I that bad a kisser?”

She bit her – still swollen – lip, shaking her head. Hands in her pockets, she said, “we don’t have time for this,” and turned to bend down for her rifle. “We’re here to scout.”

She walked slowly to let him follow her easily. Instead she heard, “not even time to finish our conversation?”

Her head spun to him.

“Aghast?” he prompted, crossing his arms as good as possible with the crutch.

She snorted and turned forward again.

“What?”

She shook her head and sighed, letting her body relax a little. “I meant what I said,” she claimed, lightly, although she’d proposed to continue that talk. Now, she couldn’t imagine to say something less vague than her _“maybe I want to follow you too”_ from back on the mersive.

_Was that enough? Damn, why is it harder to speak than to kiss?_ Inwardly, she chided herself for this.

When she finally glanced at him again, he seemed amused, although stumbling behind her. He kept on well enough, watching their left and right as they should. Before their eyes could met, her gaze spun away. _He must’ve understood then_ , she thought. _So why bother_.

“But to relieve you,” she said aloud, “you aren’t a bad kisser, I’d know. My first kiss was absolutely horrible.” In the silence that followed, she could hear his gait, likely accelerating a little. The corner of her mouth twitched into a smile he couldn’t see. “We were both 13, I think,” she continued. “It was some game or bet at a village fête and he, Ralf, gave his all, _really_.” She looked around and raised her eyebrows suggestively. “But no help, it didn’t work out at all.” She cackled. “I hope _I’ve_ improved by now? I don’t know about Ralf, though, if he ever got over from his first kiss disaster.” She had to pause here, although she hadn’t intended to touch this topic in the beginning. She had just felt like talking to Shade, about things she hadn’t told anyone, not for ages or not ever, only to wonder where her words had strayed to.

She didn’t want to dance around _those_ memories any longer either.

“He can’t improve anymore,” she murmured. “He died when the Lakelander king flooded our village. Almost everyone I knew did, like my mother and sister.” _And thus everyone I loved._

She didn’t stop in her tracks, her eyes straight ahead in a very unprofessional manner. But she couldn’t look at Shade just now. The wound on her cheek throbbed again, her face and eyes burned. “Don’t worry about me, though,” she added, “the girlfriend I had later on taught me better, and she – “

Unlike her, Shade had stopped, she saw when glancing over her shoulder. “Hey,” she said, “we have to go on.”

“How can you go on?” he asked, wrought up.

“Eh?”

“You father, the colonel, he locked you up. Tried to drug you, although you’re the only family he’s left?” His eyes shone eagerly, but he halted as she strode toward him. It almost amused her, that it was still so easy to discourage with a committed gait. That wasn’t her intention though. She slowed close before him, lifting her hand to pat his shoulder. She hesitated at the last inch, but touched him nonetheless, with him leaning into her touch with a softening face as the result.

He placed his hand on hers. “Diana – “

She smiled wrily. “I guess we’ve lost each other, too,” she admitted. “And he’s disappointed in me, of course. Rightly so. I’m disappointed by myself too.”

Shade frowned. “We’ve talked about this.”

“Yes, but – “

“No!” he insisted and she winced. He released a breath. “I mean you’re right. We should go on.” She blinked as Shade, with efforts to hold on to the crutch, took both of her hands. “We have to go on. To keep fighting, right?”

She nodded.

He leaned closer still, so their foreheads touched. Welcoming it, she closed her eyes.

“We will keep on fighting,” he repeated quietly, “but whenever you doubt, you can talk to me. I want you to trust me.”

“I do trust you.”

“Not just with battle plans.”

That stung, and quieted her. But he waited for her answer, his fingers playing with hers. She sighed. “I don’t know how to talk about some things,” she confessed eventually. She paused, once more, searching for his eyes, which were on the same height as hers, in more than one way. “Foolish, isn’t it?” She grinned joylessly.

His demeanor changed ever-so-slightly, but in combination, it spoke clearly, of the encouragement she craved. One of Shade’s hands let go and cupped her face instead.

_I love you_ , she thought.

_Never stop doing this_ , she wished.

His voice sounded rough when he spoke again. “It isn’t foolish,” said he, “I understand that. I understand you. I mean, I’m trying.” He cleared his throat and blushed. “But I hope, um, to understand you better still.”

She took his hand away from her face and kissed him lightly. “Thank you,” she breathed into his ear. Then she smirked, tucked her hair behind her ear, and urged him to go on scouting.

He followed her, with a chuckle reverberating through the woods.


End file.
